


Anniversaries

by fellowshipofthefandoms



Series: Forgetting/Remembering/Forgiving [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: M/M, Old mutants in love, mostly just fluff, really all fluff, these old men deserve some happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellowshipofthefandoms/pseuds/fellowshipofthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles didn’t mention the significance of the day, not because he thought Erik wouldn’t appreciate it, but simply because he didn’t want to dredge up old debates over Charles’ happiness and the stability of their situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Month

Charles didn’t mention the significance of the day, not because he thought Erik wouldn’t appreciate it, but simply because he didn’t want to dredge up old debates over Charles’ happiness and the stability of their situation.

He and Erik had settled into a routine soon after their arrival at the safe house, or home, as Charles was more apt to call it. Erik rose earlier than Charles to exercise and make breakfast, and then once Charles woke they would eat and read the news, occasionally pausing in their respective reading to make a comment to the other.

It was more peaceful than Charles could have ever imagined, and he felt inordinately pleased at how well he and Erik fit together. They still had arguments and heated debates, but any ruffled feathers were always smoothed before they laid down to sleep at night.

Erik had been overly accommodating in terms of Charles’ specific needs due to his disability, and, thankfully, mostly let Charles handle himself. Charles had been taking care of his own necessities for over forty years, and Erik somehow conveyed through his gentle thoughts and few words that he respected Charles privacy but was also willing to help if he was needed.

Charles kissed him every time Erik thought absentmindedly about how he could arrange the furniture or groom the grounds to make life easier for Charles. Erik always looked pleasantly startled, but Charles had a feeling he knew exactly what he was being rewarded for.

They had settled into mutually beneficial relationship that left Charles feeling fulfilled and happy more often than not, but, there were always bad days. Every once in a while he would fall into a depression, thoughts of the school and the students causing him to mope about for a day or two.

Erik’s mind always became more sharp, his words more harsh, when Charles fell into those moods. He would snap and remind Charles constantly, with thoughts or words, that he was not a prisoner. Charles knew he could leave at any time, and sometimes Erik’s anger made him want to, but he always held himself back. Through Erik’s anger and frustration was a small pocket of fear. He was so scared that Charles was going to leave him that he chose to lash out.

That day, Charles had been feeling particularly morose, but his resolve to stay was stronger than ever. Erik was sitting next to him at the kitchen table with his face buried in a book, waves of prickly frustration practically rolling off of him. Charles expected some sort of barb or underhanded comment at any moment, so when Erik spoke it took him a moment to process what he had said.

“It’s been one month,” Erik said levelly, without looking up from the book. Charles set down his fork and snuck a peek into Erik’s mind to see the motivation behind his words. He felt his throat tighten when he saw Erik’s pride at the anniversary, at how happy they had made each other. Tied into those emotions were thoughts of fear and sadness for Charles, the need to end his suffering. It was sweet and thoughtful and Charles could have kicked himself for gearing up for a fight.

Charles raised up his mug of tea and smiled, “To many more, old friend.” Erik glanced up at him and Charles breathed out a sigh of relief as Erik’s expression visibly softened. He clinked his cup of coffee against Charles’ mug before standing up and pressing a light kiss to his lips. Charles smiled into the kiss and mentally sent Erik his happiness and love, and the thought of how thankful he was every day that he stayed.


	2. Three Months

“Mate in three,” Erik said smugly. This would be the fourth game he had won in a row. Charles sat back and sighed, glumly tipping his king onto its side.

“It’s no fun when you don’t win. People always say not to be a sore loser, but how can one be happy with constant defeat,” Charles said, rather dramatically.

“It must be so hard for you to go on,” Erik replied with an overabundance of sarcasm. Even if Charles wasn’t peeking into his mind (and Erik knew he was) he would have detected the double meaning of his words.

Charles leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “I happen to recall many a time where you came out worse off in our, shall we say, squabbles.” It was rather euphemistic, considering they had been in more than one battle that threatened to level large cities.

“If we were keeping count, I’m sure I would have more tallies in my column,” Erik said lightly.

“Only if you count all the chess matches where I was drunk,” Charles replied sharply.

Erik rolled his eyes, “You were drunk practically every time we played up until the early eighties, Charles. We can hardly rule out whole decades to give you an advantage.”

Charles huffed, “It’s not as if I didn’t have a reason to drink.” He glanced down to his wheelchair to emphasize his point. Erik felt a faint echo of the guilt that had plagued him for over half his life.

Erik realized that Charles would always have the upper hand, that Erik would never stop owing him for putting him in that wheelchair. It was a truth he had put out of his mind years before, but now that he and Charles were constantly in such close quarters it was difficult to forget. 

The silence hung between them, and after a moment Charles reached over a grabbed his hand.

“You know what day it is, don’t you?” he said softly. Erik glanced up, trying to remember the passing days, the changing seasons. It was almost too easy to lose track of time in his and Charles’ little world. A look at his watch confirmed his growing suspicions.

“Cuba,” Erik said simply, fearing a break in his voice. Charles must have been thinking about it since the moment he awoke. It had not even occurred to Erik until that moment.

“Every year,” Charles said, “On this day I think back to what happened between us. I have long stopped dwelling on the loss of my legs, but remembering you leaving me never failed to bring me pain.” Erik looked down at his lap, consumed by shame.

Charles was still holding his hand, and Erik fought against the urge to pull away. “Why did you ever let me come back? After everything I had done to you,” Erik mumbled.

“Because I love you,” Charles replied honestly. Not loved, not in the past, but as an ongoing truth. Erik should have known, now that he thought about it. All those years when he would visit Charles in the dead of night and was never turned away. All the times they met on the battlefield and Charles had rolled up in his metal wheelchair without a hint of fear. All the times Charles had forgiven him for the unforgivable. “I never was very subtle, darling,” Charles said, his voice almost teasing.

“I’m sorry, Charles, for everything.” Erik forced himself to look up. He had never been able to lie when he looked Charles in the eye.  
“There is nothing left to forgive, Erik,” he said and maneuvered his chair so he was sitting next to Erik. Charles leaned in slowly and kissed Erik, soft, but with intent. When he pulled away he spoke, “Come to bed.”

Erik took a moment to process what he had said. “Charles?” He asked, not quite sure how else to raise his questions.

Instead of replying, Charles smiled coyly and wheeled himself away from Erik and towards the bedroom. Somehow Charles managed to make it seem as if he were swaying his hips and sauntering away. Erik suspected some telepathic intervention.

After a moment of indecision he followed Charles and shut the bedroom door behind them.

Charles was extremely inventive and very liberal with the use of telepathy, and afterwards they both fell back into the bed, sweaty and exhausted. Erik reminded himself mentally that he was getting to be much too old for this.

He turned over to face Charles and found him smiling knowingly. “I love you, too, you know,” Erik said.

Charles leaned forward and kissed him again.


End file.
